


Cost of Fame

by yikescaninot



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Gun Violence, Hospitals, M/M, Nobody is Dead, Non-Graphic Violence, Promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 17:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16958331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikescaninot/pseuds/yikescaninot
Summary: Working as the bodyguard for rising star Kuroo Tetsurou made Daichi see some shit that he would probably have to somehow scrub from his mind in the future. The fawning, squealing girls and women. The angry boyfriends. Thereallyangry boyfriends. The last one, in particular, is why Daichi was hired to shadow Kuroo.KuroDai Weekend Day 3: Bodyguard AU





	Cost of Fame

**Author's Note:**

> I realized when writing this that I really, really like happy endings, and that I have a hard time leaving things unresolved. I had a hard enough time as it was leaving a couple loose ends as I kept the focus on KuroDai. (¯∇¯٥)
> 
> Please enjoy!

There were a few things that Sawamura Daichi knew for certain. First, it was that, without a doubt in his mind, stardom and fame was _not_ for him. Working as the bodyguard for rising star Kuroo Tetsurou made him see some shit that he would probably have to somehow scrub from his mind in the future. The fawning, squealing girls and women. The angry boyfriends. The _really_ angry boyfriends. The last one, in particular, is why Daichi was hired to shadow Kuroo, although he’s since learned that fangirls should not be underestimated either.

Second, despite being perfectly coiffed before he leaves his flat, Kuroo Tetsurou is actually a huge dork that slowly wormed his way into Daichi’s carefully constructed professionalism. Sometimes, whenever interviewers try directing questions to him instead of Kuroo, he had to bite his tongue. His job was not to tease Kuroo, and not to provide an inside look at the star’s life. It was to protect him, and Daichi was proud of his job.

Thirdly, while stardom and fame may not be for him, he could appreciate it for the family it brought into his life.

He looked around the small collapsible table he sat at with a handful of cards. Bokuto and Iwaizumi, two other bodyguards he interacted with frequently, had roped him into a friendly game of poker while they waited for their wards to finish their chat with director Ennoshita.

“You ever going to tell Akaashi, Bo?” Iwaizumi said, his eyes darting over the cards on the table.

Bokuto sighed so emphatically, Daichi was certain he saw the man’s gelled hair droop.

“No,” he lamented. “I can’t. If I do, then I’d have to put in for an exchange and I don’t trust anybody else to protect him. Present company excluded.”

“Iwaizumi made it work with Oikawa and Suga,” Daichi pointed out, sliding a couple of cards down onto the table. He leaned back in his chair, catching the small smile on Iwaizumi’s face at the mention of his partners.

“ _Iwa-chan_ -” Bokuto started, then laughed ducking away from Iwaizumi’s swatting hand. “-did some serious damage to a guardrail because a couple of fangirls were getting a little too friendly with Oikawa and Suga. Maybe when my contract is up…” He shook his head quickly then levelled a golden stare at Daichi. “What about you? You ever going to come clean with Kuroo about how you feel?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bo.” Daichi shrugged, looking down at his cards with sudden interest.

Bokuto snorted in response but didn’t comment further. He tipped his head as if listening for a moment then shuffled his chair an inch or two away from Iwaizumi. The door behind them burst open. Suga made it to Iwaizumi first and slipped his arms around the man’s shoulders, leaning against his back and looking over his shoulder at the cards in Iwaizumi’s hand. Without looking, Iwaizumi’s hand slipped into Suga’s, their fingers lacing.

“How did the meeting go?” Iwaizumi asked, glancing between Suga and Oikawa. At Oikawa’s pout, he rolled his eyes and reached up with his free hand to pull Oikawa down to their level and kiss him. Oikawa perked back up then pulled a chair from the wall to sit with them.

“It went fine,” Oikawa said, leaning out of the way of Akaashi who was also pulling a chair up to sit beside Bokuto. “The director says the final edits should be done the start of next week so we’ll know by this Friday if we need to do any reshoots.”

Kuroo draped himself over Daichi’s shoulders, similar to how Suga was with Iwaizumi, and Daichi avoided five sets of knowing looks. “I don’t know why he’s so worried. He’s got a good vision.”

“Like any of you are less than perfectionists, too,” Iwaizumi muttered and patted Suga’s arm gently before leaning forward to start scooping up the cards.

“There’s a bit of a crowd out front, so we should maybe take the side door today.” Daichi glanced to the screen in the corner of the room that was rotating through surveillance camera feeds. When it brought up the front door camera, there was indeed a small crowd waiting with signs and pictures at the ready.

“Anybody we need to worry about?”

Daichi shook his head. “Not that I can see, but it’s also maybe time to upgrade the cameras around here. Maybe we’ll be fine.” When the other two nodded in agreement, he tilted his head up slightly so Kuroo knew he was being addressed next. “Comfy?”

“Exceedingly,” Kuroo purred. Daichi could hear the smirk in the man’s voice as Kuroo chose to keep his head resting on top of his bodyguard’s.

“Bokuto-san, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon.” Akaashi touched Bokuto’s arm to get his attention. He seemed to be the only one oblivious to the fact that Bokuto was always aware of where he was or what he was doing.

For show, Bokuto glanced down at his watch then nodded. “You got it, Akash! Don’t forget your scarf this time.” He stood up, flicking the folding chair back with practised ease so that it closed and could be stored away. Daichi hid his smile at the way Akaashi watched the other.

“We should go, too. Auntie is supposed to call tonight, Tooru,” Iwaizumi said, also getting up to put his chair away.

“She probably will only want to talk to you and Kou-chan again.” Oikawa frowned, no real bite to his petulance.

“Can you blame her? You’re a brat and we’re obviously her favourite sons,” Suga teased, an arm slipping around Oikawa’s waist. He laughed at Oikawa’s protesting as they want to collect their jackets. Iwaizumi trailed behind them with an amused smirk.

Thankfully the building that housed Ennoshita’s editing studios staffed their own security, and without a pass, nobody was allowed into the inner halls of the building, where they were now. Once they passed through the double set of doors into the public lobby, the bodyguards would be considered active duty and would put themselves between the actors and the public.

A moment after the others had left the break room, Daichi tilted his head to the side so Kuroo had to move his head. “Kuroo?” He arched a brow up at the other who was still draped around him.

“Can we stop at the store on the way home? I want mackerel tonight.” Kuroo cleared his throat, standing up.

“You always want mackerel, you damn rooster-head,” Daichi said with a snort before putting his chair away and following Kuroo out of the room. “But sure. If you ask nicely, I’ll even stick around to cook it for you.” He said it teasingly, but with the hopeful look Kuroo shot him, his heart did a weird flop in his chest and he knew he’d be staying.

When they made it out to the lobby, the building staff were already waiting by the doors to help escort the actors to their vehicles. The relaxed air from the break room was gone and both Bokuto and Iwaizumi were standing up tall, placed between their respective wards and the tall windows lining the front of the building. From the outside, Akaashi would no doubt be hidden from view behind Bokuto, but no matter how broad Iwaizumi’s shoulders, there was no way he could cover both Oikawa and Suga at the same time. He made a damn good attempt, though, by the looks of it, Daichi thought.

Daichi nodded to the head of security, a tall man with white hair and no eyebrows, and then they were heading to the door. His hand was on Kuroo’s back, ready to steer him out of the way if someone tried pushing through the wall of security guards. The doors muffled the crowd’s screaming, and Daichi could already taste the beer he would no doubt want after pushing his way through when the crowd was full volume.

‘Hopefully Kuroo still has a few of my beers in the fridge,’ he mused to himself before the doors were pushed open.

The volume of the fans was almost deafening, but none of the actors seemed put out by it. They did their best to greet the crowd, wish them the best, and to remind them to attend the theatre when the movie was released. The usual litany. Even Akaashi was giving a pleasant smile from beside Bokuto.

One voice out of the many stood out to Daichi as they were passing a particularly persistent group of young women. “Is that a gun?” it said.

Three things happened simultaneously.

One, the excited screaming turned into shrieks of terror as the crowd scrambled in every direction, not sure where the gun was -- if there even was one -- but knowing they didn’t want to be in its path all the same.

Two, Iwaizumi and Bokuto pushed their respective actors down into a crouch and then they were out of Daichi’s line of sight, and, effectively in that moment of panic, also out of his mind.

Three, a man was moving in opposition from the teeming crowd, walking towards Kuroo and Daichi with his arm held stiffly at his side, determination in each step.

Everything moved in slow motion, but at the same time too fast for Daichi to do anything but react.

He pushed Kuroo in the direction of the cars, placing himself between Kuroo and the gun now being raised in their direction. Kuroo’s hand was tight around his wrist, pulling Daichi just as much as he was being pushed.

The screaming only got louder as gunshots fired. Somewhere out of sight, he heard Oikawa shouting for Suga. Somewhere out of sight, a girl was crying for her friend. Somewhere out of sight-

“Kuroo, you bastard!”

They were at the car, and Daichi pushed Kuroo around to the other side, getting him out of the line of fire as the gunman bellowed. Kuroo’s hand on his wrist kept him from going too far, and he crouched by the tire, his free hand on Kuroo’s back in case they had to move. Daichi strained his ears.

Sirens could be heard in the distance.

Behind the next car over, someone was muffling panicked whimpers.

Footsteps neared. Slowed. Stopped.

Daichi looked to Kuroo, resolved to confess for real over the safety of grilled mackerel. He pulled his arm away from Kuroo, moving slowly to lower his line of sight beneath the bumper of the car. There was a lone glittery pink shoe catching the light near the building doors. Tattered tennis shoes and stained jeans were almost within arm’s reach, just on the other side of the car. They turned slowly and the steps continued around the bumper.

Daichi could hear the police vehicles around the building.

Four more steps and the shooter would see them.

He gestured for Kuroo to start backing up.

Three more steps.

Daichi forced out a slow breath, readying himself.

Two.

A tennis shoe came into sight and Daichi moved. The man froze in surprise, and Daichi lunged his entire weight against him, an arm barred across the man’s shoulders. Fire erupted across his torso, and his shoulder jarred as the man hit the ground, Daichi following.

Someone was grabbing at his shoulder, pulling him back, but Daichi wouldn’t give the gunman another opportunity. He pulled out of the hold and swung a fist that landed with a satisfying impact on the man’s jaw, sending him back into the ground when he tried sitting up. He readied his fist again. When the man didn’t get back up, his fingers relaxed and his shoulders sagged, finally allowing himself to be pulled away.

There were voices around him, but Daichi couldn’t make them out. He got back to his feet and turned, looking for Kuroo to make sure he was okay. The actor was at his side before Daichi could call for him, a sudden warmth at his side as Kuroo wrapped around him.

Daichi’s legs felt like they were filled with lead and he braced himself against the trunk of the car, frowning at the silence coming out of Kuroo’s moving mouth. Kuroo looked panicked, his face contorted from fear. Daichi wanted to tell him it would be okay, tried to but his mouth wasn’t cooperating. Tears started rolling down Kuroo’s cheeks and Daichi tried reaching up to brush them off, trying once again to tell him it would be okay.

Kuroo’s hands moved from his torso up to Daichi’s face and the last thing he saw before everything went black was the red covering Kuroo’s shaking hands.

* * *

 

Daichi jolted out of the darkness to bright lights and numerous voices shouting directions over each other.

Kuroo had had blood on his hands. Did he get shot? Where was he?

“Kuroo!” Daichi called, trying to get up, but hands kept pushing him down. He fought against them, calling for the actor, begging to know if he was okay.

His frantic gaze took in the emergency room he was being wheeled through on a gurney, surrounded by medical professionals. Bokuto was right behind him on a second gurney. He looked too pale. Behind Bokuto were Iwaizumi and Oikawa, helping Suga in. Suga’s right pant leg was soaked in blood. Akaashi was standing by the door with his blood-covered arms wrapped around himself. His usual neutral expression was empty and withdrawn as he stared after Bokuto’s gurney. Daichi couldn’t see Kuroo. Why couldn’t he see Kuroo? He could feel himself starting to panic again, and distantly he heard someone calling for a crash cart.

A hand grabbed Daichi’s and his head jerked up, instantly relieved when he saw Kuroo looking down at him, keeping pace with the gurney, no longer crying but still looking just as fearful. He tried holding on to the hand, needing that reassurance the actor was there with him, but the darkness pulled him back under. His hand fell from Kuroo’s as the gurney was wheeled through a set of doors.

* * *

 

“Do you know your name?”

“Sa-”

“Do you know your name?”

“Sawamura Daichi.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital.”

“Do you remember why?”

“Gun. Kuroo?”

“He’s fine. Rest, Sawamura-san.”

* * *

 

His limbs felt heavy. The air smelled of antiseptic, and the sheets scratched at his arms. He wanted to move, open his eyes, scratch his nose -- _anything_. At the sound of something shuffling around at the edges of his consciousness, he listened.

“You look like shit.”

“Probably no better than you.”

“Have you been home yet?”

A pause.

“How’s Suga?”

“Threatening to run us over with his wheelchair if we don’t stop fussing.”

“Sounds like him.”

“Better than the cane.”

“Where is he?”

“Demanded to get snacks on his own. I asked a nurse to tail him in case he hurt himself. Stubborn ass.”  

“When are they being moved to a more private room?”

“When they wake up.”

“Good. Reporters won’t stop trying to get in.”

“Hmm. How’s Akaashi?”

“Hasn’t left his side either. Finally fell asleep about an hour ago.”

“Those two…”

“What?”

“Akaashi was saying he was going to ask Bokuto out on a real date once his contract was up. Wouldn’t have been _proper_ before then, according to him.”

“They’re a train wreck.”

“You are in no position to talk, Kuro-chan.”

“Don’t be an ass, Oikawa. You know we- did he just move?”

There was a rustle of clothing.

“Sawamura? Daichi?”

“Are you sure you didn’t just imagine it?”

“No I swear-”

“Your breath fucking reeks,” Daichi croaked out, his eyes opening to the tiniest of slivers. It was too bright. He tried moving his hand to block out light from the window, but inhaled sharply and froze at the pain shooting up his side and across his chest into his shoulder.

There was another shuffle and then the sound of curtains closing, and Daichi was able to open his eyes a bit more.

Kuroo huffed out a faint laugh, the relief on his face almost comical. He leaned out of Daichi’s face, standing back upright. “Sorry that hospital coffee doesn’t smell like fucking peppermint, Sa’amura. Try not to move too much.” His hand guided Daichi’s back down to rest on the mattress, but didn’t let go once it was there. If anything, Kuroo’s hand held on tighter as if afraid to let go again.

Daichi blinked slowly, taking in his surroundings. The walls around him were painted a soft yellow, and to his right was an occupied bed, but the curtain was pulled midway around it so Daichi could only see the shape of someone’s legs under blankets, and a hunched over back resting by the bed occupant’s hip. By the foot of the bed was a low table, and an uncomfortable looking couch. Iwaizumi and Oikawa were on the couch, though both were leaning forward watching Daichi intently. Before he could ask about the silver-haired actor, Suga rolled back into the room in a wheelchair, a tray balanced across the armrests with muffins, wrapped sandwiches, and what looked like the entire cafeteria’s supply of canned coffee.

Daichi frowned, trying to remember what was so important about him seeing Suga. When it clicked, his eyes instantly moved to the man’s leg.

“Minor. Hardly needed surgery at all. Probably could have done away with a band-aid.” Suga waved a hand dismissively before picking up the tray and holding it out.

Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi scowled at his words, but didn’t seem to want to push it. Instead Iwaizumi got up to take the tray from him and set it on the table while Oikawa helped Suga wheel over to Daichi, having noticed the slight tremble in his arms.

Other than Kuroo, Daichi had known Suga the longest out of anyone in their odd little family, and with Bokuto’s heart rate monitor beeping steadily, Kuroo’s hand in his and Suga beside him, Daichi could feel himself starting to relax.

A small blonde woman dressed in scrubs entered the room cautiously, as if not wanting to disturb the occupants. Seeing Daichi awake, she smiled and he wondered if there were curtains to block out that brightness as well. When she walked over to his bed, he could see her black scrubs had tiny birds on them, but also that there was a bruise on her cheek. He frowned at it in concern.

“Yeah, that was you, you ass,” Suga scolded, smacking Daichi’s good arm.

“What?” Daichi looked at him with horror.

“You put up such a fight when you came in that you almost knocked poor Yacchan out,” Oikawa said dramatically, putting a hand on the nurse’s shoulder. She looked ready to bolt next to the _significantly_ taller man.

“You’re making her nervous, Trashkawa. Go sit back down.”

“Rude, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa huffed slightly before smiling apologetically to Yachi and returning to his spot on the couch.

“I am _so_ sorry,” Daichi said, turning his attention back to her. She was _tiny_. He had hurt her?

She waved her hands quickly then formed an ‘x’ with her arms. “Nope. No apologizing, Sawamura-san. It’s just a bruise. It’ll heal quickly.” She smiled to him again, patting his forearm consolingly. “It surprised me, but I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t handle it once in a while. I think Kuroo-san is the person you really owe an apology to.”

“Fuck, did I hurt you, too?” He gaped at Kuroo, looking mortified.

“Yes, you asshole. You tackled a gun-wielding lunatic in front of me and had to be sedated, also in front of me, because you almost took out three medical staff.” Kuroo rolled his eyes before giving Daichi a tight smile. “Don’t do it again.”

Daichi dropped his head back on the pillow, exhaling slowly. He felt light-headed, and a little disoriented, but he clenched his free hand into a fist so the sting of his nails digging in kept him somewhat awake.

“And Bo? He was...”

Kuroo nodded over to the other bed. “Still out.”

“Sawamura-san, are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?” Yachi asked as she checked the monitors against whatever was on her clipboard.

“Only when I breathe.”

She smiled in amusement. “Give it another half hour then press that button- yes, that one- once. If you’re still in pain, or something changes, press this button- correct- and either myself or another nurse will be right in.” She stepped away from his bed to go to Bokuto’s. Whatever she saw made her smile warmly before turning her attention to the monitors as well. She bowed before she left the room.

“She’s adorable. I want to keep her.” Suga sighed fondly, pushing himself back over to be by the couch.

“I can’t believe I hit her,” Daichi groaned, closing his eyes. Somewhere above him Kuroo laughed, but it was quieter so he didn’t disturb Akaashi.

“And two others. That’s very important information,” Kuroo reminded him.

* * *

 

Daichi had been moved to his own room later that evening once the doctors had ascertained that there were no complications from surgery or side effects from the anaesthesia. Oikawa had convinced Kuroo to go home and shower at the very least, so Daichi was left with his thoughts and the small radio that was playing soft music in the corner of his room. When he had woken up after being moved, it had already been playing, and since he wasn’t able to move much, let alone to the other side of the room, he had quickly folded and tried to at least tolerate the music and occasional news stories.

Earlier a retelling of the shooting had aired, dictated by two witnesses: one of the security guards, and a fan whose friend had been shot.

Of the six rounds that had been fired, five had hit. Two people in the crowd, Sugawara Koushi, as well as two unnamed bodyguards. No comment had been provided yet by agents of the actors, or the agency that employed the bodyguards. The actors themselves were also not able to be reached for comment.

Daichi had grit his teeth, listening to the broadcast with a dull anger at how direct and unsympathetic the newscast was in their questioning. They wanted the story, not the people who lived it.

He closed his eyes but saw the pink shoe on the pavement. The way Kuroo looked at him with unfiltered panic. The well-trodden tennis shoes taking slow steps around the car.

He tried tuning out the sound of the radio, but could only hear the whimpering from behind the next car over -- Akaashi, he had learned, who had been shielded by Bokuto’s body from the gunfire. The sirens in the distance. The bang of the gun being fired that made his ears ring, and his side light up with pain.

When the doorknob to his room turned, he looked over to see Kuroo trying to sneak in.

“Ah, Sa’amura. I thought you’d be sleeping,” Kuroo said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Is it possible to be exhausted but still feel like you’ve slept for too long?”

“Sure, why not? There are different kinds of tired, after all.” Kuroo shrugged and shut the door behind himself.

“Can you turn the radio off?”

“Hate hearing about your heroics?” Kuroo said softly, tone teasing, even as he turned to turn the small device off.

“Heroics? They’re making it a spotlight feature on the guy, and how it’s because his ex broke his heart falling in love with some stupid character of yours. They don’t tell you if that girl is okay, or the security guard. They don’t say that Bokuto is still in intensive care. That Suga will probably have to use a cane now.” Daichi scowled.

“Hey,” Kuroo shushed, reaching a hand out to brush his thumb over the crease between Daichi’s brows, smoothing it out gently. “It could have turned out much worse. And excuse me for being a bit selfish, but I’m glad that it’s not you down in intensive care still.”  His fingers slid down to take Daichi’s hand, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed beside Daichi’s leg.

“Sorry about the raincheck on the mackerel.”

“Don’t think you’re getting out of it just because you got shot. As soon as you've checked out, and moved in with me, we’re having mackerel. I suppose we can have shoyu ramen, too.” Kuroo added as an afterthought, looking up at the ceiling. “I suppose we’ll have to have everybody over once Bo is up to it. I’m sure Akaashi will be glued to his side, too.”

Daichi hummed slightly in acknowledgement then blinked. “Moved in with you?”

“Your parents are taking care of your grandparents. You won’t be able to do much for yourself, and I have a spare room you can use. Plus somebody’s going to have to help you shower.” Kuroo smirked, finally looking back down to Daichi.

He snorted then winced when it jostled his shoulder. When the actor didn’t say anything else Daichi looked up to see the tightness around the smile. The guilt and concern. The small glimmer of hope.

“Okay, Kuroo. Please take care of me.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. How'd I do? :')


End file.
